


The Devil's Last Gift

by Satanisalwayscreaming



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Devil said, F/F, Fluf, also this is cross posted from my tumblr, arcana-more-likely-nadia-trash, but it's laksdlakjsd, flngst!, friendship!!, if you wanna follow that, no to letting the rest, that's my tumblr, there's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanisalwayscreaming/pseuds/Satanisalwayscreaming
Summary: The crowd slowly silences as Nadia raises a hand.“We are gathered here to the trial of the murderer of my beloved late husband, Count Lucio of Vesuvia.” She states coldly, glaring at the magician below who looks back somehow calmly. “How do you plead?”“Not guilty,” her voice carries surprisingly calm and Gianna hides the tremble of her hands. “I did not kill him.”------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The Devil leaves one last gift to Nadia and her magician.
Relationships: Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana), Entire Satrinava Family & Original Female Character, Nadia & Asra, Nadia & Her Family, Nadia & Julian, Nadia & Portia, Nadia (The Arcana)/Original Female Character(s), Nahara Satrinava & Original Female Character, Nasmira Satrinava & Original Female Character, Nazali Satrinava & Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! So I'm posting this from my tumblr (arcana-more-likely-nadia-trash) and that's it. Please leave a kudo and a comment if you liked it!! If you have something you want me to improve my writing leave a comment below too!!

“Vesuvia! Time has come for justice!”  
  
The words are met with thunderous applause. The entire Colosseum shaking to its core with the crowd's excitement. It hurts, with the noonday sun bearing down, the entire event feels like a fever dream.  
  
Except it isn’t a dream.  
  
The guards roughly yank on the chain and Gianna is brought back to the harsh reality of it all. Her hands bound by rope, on her neck a heavy looping chain like Muriel’s. Yet she still tries to hold her head up high. Walking with as much dignity as she can, following the guards to the center where a solitary podium stands.  
  
They release the leash from her chains and point to the podium. There, she takes her stand. Head held high, she stops the quiver in her lip, smoothing over her features.  
  
She knows she’s been in a position like this before, long before Nadia, but she does not let the feelings carry her. Not now, not when she’s going to have to fight for her life.  
  
The crowd slowly silences as Nadia raises a hand.  
  
“We are gathered here to the trial of the murderer of my beloved late husband, Count Lucio of Vesuvia.” She states coldly, glaring at the magician below who looks back somehow calmly. “How do you plead?”  
  
“Not guilty,” her voice carries surprisingly calm and Gianna hides the tremble of her hands. “I did not kill him.”

The answer sends a ripple of angry whispers and it’s clear Nadia isn’t pleased. “Is that so? How do you defend your innocence, when you arrive from the Devil’s realm?”  
  
“I had arrived because we sealed the Devil in his realm,” Gianna replies calmly. “You can ask Asra--or any magician here, I am not lying. Nadia, this is the Devil’s fault. I don’t know what he did but—”  
  
“You will not address me so casually, murderer.” She interrupts with a sneer. “I have no such recollection. As what my family will testify--I had been with them throughout the entire Masquerade.”  
  
One by one, each Satrinava (including her parents) had given accounts and even the courtiers had. But with their sickly sweet smiles and pandering, Gianna knows they’re enjoying it too much. They may have lost, but they will have the last laugh.  
  
She tries to remain impartial, but she can feel it. The tightness in her chest, the blurriness in her eyes. But she refuses to cry, she will not show weakness. Not even when she dies.  
  
Once each family member and courtier has given their account, it was her turn. All eyes on her and she takes a deep breath.  
  
“What’s your justification for your claims?”  
  
It’s an easy start, so she narrates what happened. Nadia’s plea for her help, the eventual closeness (though she did gloss over the romantic aspects because no one needed that), and the eventual truth they’ve pieced together and fought the Devil in his realm.  
  
“Is this true?” Nadia had asked, once Gianna had finished, turning to the courtiers. “Is what she says true?”  
  
To their credit, the courtiers had the best-surprised look to such a claim--except Volta who looks ashamed. Her eyes downcast and unable to speak. Valdemar was sitting right beside her and they looked very pleased with themselves. “Of course not, beloved Countess!” Vlastomil speaks up, hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer. “We would never betray you, oh no we would not!”  
  
Volta seems to want to speak up but no one notices. Valdemar nods in agreement, a hand on Volta’s shoulder making her tense. “Oh dear Countess, we would never think to betray you. After all, your graciousness has saved us--and allowed us to continue to be better individuals.” Their words dripping with false sympathy, clearly practiced, and obviously buttering her up.  
  
But yet Nadia eats it up, and nods resolutely. She turns to her family, and she asks what they think would be a fitting punishment.  
  
“Maybe we can have her work for the palace instead, studying magic...I sense her magic would be useful...” Nafizah cautions.  
  
“But then she’d be a threat still, I’d offer execution,” Natiqa speaks up immediately. “It’s a guarantee she won’t do anything else. She won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” When Natiqa says it, she gives a not-so-subtle glare in the magician’s way.  
  
“Whatever you decide dear,” Nasrin speaks up suddenly. “We will support you. It is hard to lose someone you love dearly to a monster.”  
  
Nadia nods, and their conversation becomes serious and though her fate was unknown, Gianna can’t help but look at the sky. _Hell of a way to make an impression to my mother and father in law._  
  
The crowd bursts to hushed whispers, all wondering what the verdict will be until Nadia calls for their attention once more.  
  
“As Countess of Vesuvia, I believe that everyone should have a vote and choice as to how unsavory individuals are dealt with.” She starts. “So, people of Vesuvia, the fate of this murderous magician is in your hands. What shall we do with her?”  
She hadn’t even finished when the crowd immediately roars.  
  
_**“Execution! Hang her! Hang her!”**_  
  
Their cries shake the crowd and Gianna hears the noises fade away like background. She can’t tell what Nadia is saying anymore but the guards are quick, yanking her back from the podium, and she watches as they prepare the gallows.  
They didn’t even give her a chance to sit in her cell and wait.  
  
Faintly, she can hear Chandra’s screeches and take solace in it. Pretending that this was all a bad dream. But it wasn’t, and the crowd's cheers were growing louder by the minute.  
  
Each step felt aggravating. This wasn’t how she thought her story would end...she’d die so fast...and at Nadia’s hand. Yet her thoughts don’t jump to anger--it jumps to Nadia’s how she’d feel when one day she realizes what she did.  
She just hopes Nadia would be happier then...maybe married to someone who’ll actually give her, her happiness.  
  
An odd calm washes over her, as the guards remove the rope and fasten the rope around her neck. Standing at the platform, all these people cheering for her punishment...she swears she sees another woman for a moment rather than Nadia.  
  
But the vision fades too fast for her to catch.  
  
Once more, Nadia raises a hand and the crowd falls hushed.  
  
“Any last words?” Nadia asks as the guards remove the metal around her neck and she can feel the rope under her hands.  
  
Gianna smiles, and she can think of a lot. How she had wished they had more time, how this wasn’t how she imagined their story would end, or how she had wished she made a better impression on her parents. But she rather smiles and says rather sweetly. “I forgive you--and I love you. I hope you’ll forgive yourself...it wasn’t your fault, it was the Devil’s...”  
  
But Nadia does not smile back. She simply rolls her eyes and gives a nod.  
  
It was odd.  
  
She sees them, the crowd, the royal family. The next thing she knows is she’s tumbling, falling into the darkness. It felt familiar, like an old friend. Cold hands reaching out to her.  
  
Death’s voice quietly whispering as she falls deeper into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hewwo!! Part 2!! Just posting aggressively till chapter 3 but idk how long this fic is going

The aftermath happens the next day.  
  
Nadia wakes up, stretching, troubled by her dreams. Her hands reach out to search for her magician but find the bedside still made. There’s a sinking feeling in her gut, and she immediately sits up.  
  
Memories rush of her dreams--the heat, the crowd, the cheers. It felt all surreal. She remembers fighting the Devil, walking out holding hands with her magician.  
  
So where was she?  
  
Everything felt oddly quiet as she goes outside. The bustle of the castle gone silent and she can’t find anyone--not even the chamberlain. It aggravates her, and she goes to the dining room where her family would be.  
  
 _ **Maybe that dream wasn’t a dream.**_ A small thought whispers. She pushes it down, unwilling to admit that. She hears footsteps and her heart jumps and she rounds the corner ready to greet Gianna when she’s greeted by a sobbing Portia.  
  
“Portia?” She asks, worriedly as she approaches her dear friend. “Portia, what happened? Are you alright? Where is   
everybody?”  
  
Portia sniffles, trying to contain her sobs, her hand pressed to her mouth. She can’t look her in the eye. Not after what happened, not after what they’ve done.  
  
“Portia?” Nadia asks, her voice full of worry. The sinking feeling in her gut returns full force and the despair sits heavy on her shoulders. “Portia--yesterday was it—”  
  
“It was real, milady...she--you...you killed her.”  
  
No one was prepared to hear Nadia wail.  
  
It was a heartbreaking sound. The sound sorrow would make. Her sisters had been looking for her the entire day and had all immediately taken it upon themselves to try and comfort her.  
  
But they can’t. Not when she had locked herself up in her room. No one knows what she was doing.  
  
It took hours before she had let her parents in--and during this time--her sisters took it upon themselves to run Vesuvia. The courtiers had run amok during their time free and had fled--but a very angry Asra and almost the entirety of Vesuvia joined the manhunt for them.  
  
It was terrifying, a day in history written down.  
  
People had stormed the estates--Vlastomil had his worms and his estate ransacked--the same could be said for Vulgora who had arrived beaten an inch to their life. Valdemar hadn’t put up much of a struggle and arrived relatively unshaken.  
  
Volta was spared, probably because people knew she had given an effort to help defeat the Devil. But try as they might no one could reach her estate. It was already ominous to travel there, but now it was impossible. Every trail led right back to the main paths.  
  
As if magic was preventing anyone entry.  
  


* * *

“Nadia, are you sure you can do this?”  
  
She looked rather pristine, her clothes and hair arranged neatly in a tight braided bun and her lapels and her jacket quite straightened out. But her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked close to bursting into tears any second.  
  
It was the first time she had gone out ever since she had bumped into Portia and she had immediately ordered a carriage to drive them to Volta’s estate as soon as she heard the news.  
  
Volta had Gianna’s body.  
  
It made sense, especially when yesterday they had thought of cremating it and throwing it to the Lazaret. Nadia’s stomach churns when she thinks too much about it.  
  
Her guilt is eating her alive--the smiling face of her magician whose neck had snapped quite loudly for the audience. The cheers, everyone's celebration--if only she had been strong enough. Maybe she could have changed it, if only she had listened--  
  
“Nadia...”  
  
Nasmira’s quiet voice startles her from her thoughts and she sits up straighter. “Yes, Mira?” She asks her voice rough. “What is it?”  
  
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” She asks gently. “We could always have the body brought to the palace.”  
  
“No--no I want to be the one to get it. I want--no...I have to see her,” the idea sends a stab of pain through her heart and she desperately wishes it weren’t true. But everyone else mourns, she knows in her heart it was true.  
  
Nasmira nods, patting her shoulder and gives her a hug, and Nadia leans into it. She’s thankful she’s there--thankful Nazali and Nahara were there too. The ride to the estate was quiet, and when they grow closer following the trail, they feel it.  
Magic.  
  
It laps over them, like soothing waves. For a moment, Nadia’s grief doesn’t hurt as much and it even feels like her--like her Gianna.  
  
But then it’s gone, and the roads seem to clear and they continue on. Nahara is on edge, peering outside and looks at Nasmira then at Nadia. “I don’t know what is going to happen, but should anything take a turn for the worse, we run.”  
  
Nazali nods, “Yeah, it wouldn’t be safe...especially with what happened now. Hopefully, Volta isn’t planning anything nefarious.” They try to say, pointing at the positive.  
  
Nadia only nods, half-hearing what they all say. Thinking and chasing after the fleeting of Gianna being there.  
  


* * *

“What do you mean, I can’t see her?”  
  
Everyone (with the exception of Nadia) felt bad for Volta. She was cowering, stuttering, unable to get anything out as Nadia glares at her. “What do you mean I can’t see her body?”  
  
“Dia,” Nasmira tries to placate. “Let her speak...we’re all grieving,”  
  
Nadia turns around and gives Nasmira a withering glare, and Nasmira doesn’t seem to be fazed and Nadia snorts and she’s about to speak again when Nahara places a firm hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Enough,” she says calmly but firmly. “You are angry, hurting, but it is not Volta’s fault,” Nahara says. “Do not lash out on her.”  
  
The words sink in and the tension in Nadia’s shoulders fades away and she looks ashamed. She sniffles, and Nazali reaches out to pat Nadia’s back. Nasmira had gone to comfort the crying Procurator.   
  
For a moment everyone had taken a breather. Once Nadia manages to compose herself and Volta wasn’t a blubbering mess—Nadia apologizes.  
  
“My behavior was...uncalled for. It was not your fault she had gone...I am truly sorry, Procurator,” Nadia says and she means in. Offering a hug to the Procurator who immediately accepts it.  
  
It feels good to hug her, despite feeling her bones, it felt good to hug Volta. Volta herself hugged rather fiercely back before pulling away. For a few moments, everything felt...rather good before the business at hand comes up.  
  
Luckily, Nazali decides to ask her this time around, cracking a rather wry grin. “So...Volta...about the body...?”  
  
Volta immediately tenses and shakes her head. “Volta is sorry...but she can not give the body back.”  
  
Nadia seems ready to start getting angry when Nasmira intervenes. “But Volta, why can’t you give the body back? Surely your people would have time to prep it.”  
  
“Volta can not say,” she says rather sadly. “I am sorry, Countess, and Princesses. But I can not say. Volta promised—”  
  
 **“And Volta is a very good promise keeper.”**  
  
That voice.  
  
It makes Nadia’s heart practically soar and they all turn to look at the stairs.  
  
Hardened eyes meet her own. Jaw rather set determinedly, with a well-guarded expression. There seemed to be no recognition nor animosity--but magic crackles in the air as if it were dancing around them.  
  
Nadia couldn’t breathe. Not through the tears or the utter joy and sorrow, she felt in one fell swoop. The only thing she could do was breathe one single name out.  
  
“Gianna?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeet leave a kudo and a comment if ever!!

“Gianna?”

Nadia’s breath hitches. It’s her--her wife. She’s here, she’s alive and she wants to run and hold her and apologize, swearing on her life she’d do anything to make it up to her but something is wrong.

The air crackles with magic, making the hair on her arms rise. It was like a storm brewing and her Gianna doesn’t seem to recognize her--and in the corner of her eye she can see Nahara tense up with Nazali and she swallows. “Gianna?”

“I heard you, Nadia.” She says calmly, standing at the top of the stairs and looking down on everyone. “Though I would think it is very rude to come and start screaming at Volta, after all, she had done no wrong.” The way she says it is cool, almost condescending and Volta seems to tremble near Nadia.

Something was definitely wrong.

“Gianna,” Nasmira speaks up. “Maybe you’d like to sit with us and talk. We’ve got a lot to talk about,” she says, trying to placate everyone in the room. “And a few of us had missed you dearly...”

Nadia tries to catch her gaze, and Gianna sighs, closing her eyes. “I don’t have time for any of you.”

Her words catch Nadia off guard and it makes her shrink a little inside.

“But I’m sure you do--just a quick tea break--I’m sure you could use the extra look over too...coming back from the dead again, you deserve a quick break,” Nazali interjects, smiling at her wryly.

For a moment no one moves and before Gianna can reply a low rumble suddenly fills the room. Old energy, dark, viscous, like oil begins filling in the room. They couldn’t see it.

But they felt it, filling up the air where there were gaps. It was suffocating, the smell intoxicating as it was deadly. 

Immediately, Volta lets out a shriek, and Nadia activates her sight, seeing the darkness fill up the room. Nahara was ready, grabbing a decorative scepter and brandishing it like a weapon. Nasmira had huddled up to Volta, clinging onto her as if to shield her and Nazali was ready to tussle, with the way they roll up their sleeves.

Nadia looks up, attempting to call on Gianna but she had gone--vanished from the top of the stairs, and despair sinks in her stomach. What had happened? Was it really her? Or was it some demon? Masquerading to be her love...forever to haunt her?

But her thoughts are interrupted when a low murmur rises. Everyone takes a glance and there’s a sickly dog-like creature padding up to them. Eyes glowing a sharp red, tongue a bright crimson lolling as it approaches. The fur on its body seems to be made of shadow, each step made it look like it could sink through the floor and reappear anywhere.

“Nadia,” Nahara says readying herself and moving beside her--watching the creature carefully. “What should we do?”

“Get rid of it.” Nadia says pulling out her sword. She chances a glance behind her and finds Volta sobbing and crying incoherently into Nasmira who tries her best to soothe her and turns her attention back to the odd creature.

It lets out a low, throaty growl, the sound unnatural, and Nahara is watching its movements carefully. “Do you think..?” Nazali asks.

“No,” Nadia says. “That is not her--I know it isn’t.” Her vision revealed it, looking at the creature she could tell it had something to do with the Devil--but at the same time, there was something else. Something older, a magic Nadia had not seen before. It moves, like water over stone. Graceful and dangerous.

Before anyone can say or do anything the creature suddenly lunges. Nahara meets the attack, swinging the scepter as fast and as hard as she can only to watch as it passes through the creature.

It doesn’t even seem fazed, maybe curious at best, as it stops a few feet short from them. At this point, Nasmira and Nazali had retreated a little further from Nahara and Nadia. They watch as the creature sniffs the air, tail wagging behind it and it seemed a little agitated.

Biting and snapping the air and it turns around before facing them.

“What is it doing?” Nasmira wonders aloud. “I’ve never seen dogs or wolves act this way...”

“I think we’ve established this is NOT a wolf or a dog,” Nazali pipes up. “Maybe it’s a...shadow dog?”

“Whatever it is, we need to find a way to get rid of it.” Nahara sighs. “Objects don’t touch it...do you have any ideas Nadia—Nadia?”  
  
Nahara looks concerned as Nadia reaches out towards the creature and before she could stop her--Nadia’s hand meets a barrier and suddenly a bright dome appears overhead, covering their entire side of the room.

“Who did this?” Nazali asks reaching out to touch the barrier as well. It feels warm to their touch, like a freshly ironed blanket. There’s a pulse in it too, like a gentle heartbeat. “It...it feels nice,”

“Who else?” Nadia croaks, the energy all so new but all so familiar. “But I don’t understand where is she—”

There’s another loud ripple and the creature suddenly grows, from a normal wolf its size swelled up to a tiger, paws growing thicker, teeth sharpening.

“Shit.” Nazali curses. “Nothing is ever normal here in Vesuvia, is it?”

The creature growls, eyes locked onto them and it makes an attempt to leap into their side, but a resounding ‘thunk’ echoes. For a moment it seems dazed, but it shakes its head and tries to do it again.

“Get back--” Nahara says suddenly and Nadia pulls away from the edge, seeing the cracks on the barrier, “It’s going to break!”

As soon as Nahara had warned them the barrier explodes, and they expect to feel the force of it--or perhaps the creature to lunge at them. But a warm presence wraps around them and when they open their eyes the creature is gone, and in its place was a sword made of pulsing white energy, with Gianna standing and slightly panting.

There’s a gash on her cheek, and a few claw marks on her clothes and they realize she’s wearing armor but there’s a dark pool of blood on her side.

No one speaks for a few moments before she grabs her sword “You have to leave.” She says. “Take Volta with you, go back to the palace. You’ll be safe there.”

“Your hurt,” Nazali says immediately. “Let me patch you up—”

“There’s no time!” Gianna snaps. “I didn’t think you’d try and find me--the ritual--I need to finish it.” She grunts and with her sword, she stabs it in the air, a loud ripping noise heard and a portal appears as she drags her sword down. “You need to go now!”

“No!” Nadia says and immediately bounds up to her. “I am not leaving you--whatever ritual this is, we face it together.”

“Leave. Me!” Gianna growls and pushes her away, magic aiding her as Nadia takes a few steps back, and her eyes widen and she looks hurt. Nahara looks at her, expression hardening but she doesn’t back down. “I said go!”

“Not until you explain this mess,” Nahara growls.

“Perhaps let me look at your wound because you’re going to die if you bleed out anymore,” Nazali interrupts. “You need to have that checked out now.”

“I’m fine.” Gianna waves it off and pretends not to wince as she takes a step towards the portal. “You all need to go--go back to the palace. You’ll be safe there. Guard the city, no one should leave.” She says cryptically before jumping in.

But as soon as she had Nadia had immediately followed, and before Nahara could reach out and stop her she’s jumping in just before the portal closes.

Leaving her sisters wondering what they’re going to do now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh so an update owo

_Why am I here?”_   
  
_Dull brown eyes look back at her and she knows it’s Death looking back at her. She knows those eyes would be filled with vitriol had it been her mother. Eyes glinting with rage, knowing that her daughter had been a disappointment._   
  
_**“You know why,”** Death’s voice sounds too much like her mother’s—but it’s softer, kinder. **“It’s not your time yet.”**_   
  
_The words make her lips curl up. “This is the 3rd time you’ve stopped me from entering your realm. If I didn’t know any better, you didn’t want me.”_   
  
_Death chuckles, her voice an all to familiar sound. “You still have much to do in life, I’m afraid I can not, ‘bring you home’ just yet.”_   
  
_“Why?” Gianna asks, and she looks at Death. “Why not? I’ve been here twice, beforehand. Yet you turn me away every time. There are countless others who don’t want to go willingly into your realm and yet you bring them regardless.”_   
  
_Death laughs. It’s unsettling, seeing her mother seem so happy. “ **But if you are so eager, I can promise you that after you’ve fulfilled this purpose, you simply have to end your life and I shall usher you in. No denial, no more pain.”**_   
  
_Gianna sighs, eyes closing and she can feel it. The familiar strings pulling her back to her body and she looks at Death, wearing her mother’s face and nods. “Can I ask you one thing?”_   
  
_**“Sure.”** Death smiles. “ **What is it?”**_   
  
_“Why my mother? You know she hated me.”_   
  
_Death seems to ponder about it before shrugging. **“She hated you. But she also loved you, yes? That is a troublesome pickle you mortals always put yourselves in. But you love her regardless, yes? But if you want something more...wholesome.”** Death’s visage changes, shaping until it’s a very familiar woman with long violet hair and striking red eyes. Death’s voice the same voice she heard just before she dies. **“I can always change.”**_   
  


* * *

  
“Nadia?”  
  
Her head is spinning, everything doesn’t make sense. When she had leapt through the portal she remembers feeling pulled taunt, as if her body was being stretched to its limits like a rubber band before being let go and snapping back to its original shape. Whispers echo around her, too soft and faint for her to pick the words apart but loud enough that it made her head ring.  
  
Nothing made sense. It was as if everything and nothing was moving around her and it takes her a few moments to realize that there was a voice repeating her name.  
  
“Nadia!”  
  
Her eyes snap open, and she’s greeted by Gianna, her eyes searching hers, holding her face with both hands. It takes a moment for her to realize what exactly is happening before the relief strikes and she surges up to hug her, tears filling her eyes as she holds her magician tight.  
  
“I’m so sorry.” She says, sobbing into her shoulder. All the anger and fear she feels rise up but the relief outweighs it. It doesn’t matter if Gianna hated her, it doesn’t matter because she was somehow alive and seemingly well. “I—can not express the words...but—”  
  
Her words die down when Gianna pulls away to kiss her. Desperation and longing mashed into one and Nadia surrenders easily into it. Hands moving to grip her magician’s face and it feels so relieving to feel her being alive, to know that the person she loves is here and is safe.  
  
“Don’t apologize.” She says firmly, once their kiss ends. Calloused hands frame her face the way she remembers and Nadia feels another fresh onslaught of tears ready to spill over. “I’m so happy to see you...although I wish you’d listen—it isn’t safe here...I’m happy.” Gianna admits, pressing their foreheads together.  
  
“I am quite stubborn,” Nadia manages to laugh, the sound a little warbled as she tries to soak in the fact that her wife was here and okay. “We do not do things by ourselves...we do it together.”  
  
The words must have struck a chord in her because Gianna laughs softly bringing her in an embrace. “Together...yes...”  
  
For a moment they bask in each others presence. The looming threat and the questions Nadia had kept at bay for the time being. “We can take a break,” Nadia says. “Just for now...we can rest, yes? Before we face the world?”  
  
“Yes,” Gianna whispers back. “We can rest...”

* * *

  
  
After the cryptic warning, Nazali and Nahara did not delay with the news.  
  
Their arrival was met with much relief, guards had been stationed at every entrance and exit of the city and the port was temporarily closed, allowing other boats and small ships to dock but not permitting anyone to leave. There was some wrong, everyone felt it, a creeping dread that seemed to sink in everyone’s bones.  
  
Cold drapes over the entire city.  
  
Shadows seem longer, shapes seeming to solidify and coalesce but it disappears too fast to be sure. Asra had been kept busy, helping people craft rudimentary charms to ward off evil. Other magicians and emerged from the woodwork to help. Even Muriel helps in his own way, showing the townsfolk how to craft wards and etch runes to secure their homes before disappearing into the mist and shadows himself, a barely present wisp of a memory.  
  
When they had arrived, they immediately made a beeline to the palace. Everyone was working, helping coordinate anyone and everyone. Nasmira, with Volta, settle in the dining room and the servants serve them, while Nazali heads down to the dungeons to help Julian, who was planning with the other doctors and healers about the possible things they’ll encounter.  
  
Everybody could feel it.  
  
There was something stirring in the horizon. The sensation of dread magnifies as the day slowly creeps to an end. Everyone was on edge, the sky was dark, grey, as if the weather too was affected by whatever malicious magic lingered in the air.   
  
It was only after hours of work do they finally convene to talk about what had transpired. It is Nasmira who recounts the story, the fight, the creature, and Gianna and Nadia leaping into a portal. Volta, who was happily eating on some cheese did not comment on anything, busying herself with the food and taking comfort in it.  
  
“She was injured,” Nazali sighs. “There was a lot of blood from her midsection. I just hope where ever they are it gets patched up. But aside from what she said...we’ve got nothing else.”  
  
Silence reigns in the room and for a moment everyone is at a loss.   
  
Asra had tried to speak with the Arcana, but they themselves were hushed. They spoke of being well-guarded, to fortify and hope for the best outcome. Their responses were similar, and the only one he had a breakthrough with was Death, who simply told him. **_“Let them come home.”_**  
  
They pitch ideas back and forth, swapping theories and ideas. Asking Volta had led to a dead end as well, with Volta simply saying that she knew the Devil was involved somehow, but she wasn’t sure how exactly. It didn’t help no one really knows how the Devil was sealed, except for Nadia and Gianna who were currently missing.  
  
They stew in their silence, wondering about what else could happen when panic breaks out.  
  
With everyone hard at work, the panic people had was in control. There was a small inkling of hope that tonight would pass, that everything will be okay at the end. For a moment, everything seemed under control, and the people were managed, until a young man, started shouting: “Plague!”  
  
A guard had run up from the city shouting the message and it makes everyone’s blood go cold. The plague was supposed to be attached to Lucio, and with Lucio gone, there was no reason as to why the plague should be happening. Julian leaves, taking his gear with him as he follows the guard to the patient. Nazali follows suit, and the sisters break into their tasks once again. Natiqa squares her jaw, readying herself for another attempt to calm everyone down. Nasmira had left Volta to her own devices, the latter being content to simply eat the food being supplied to her. Nafizah and their parents do their best to help Natiqa, strictly out of their element they can do only so much as well.  
  
Navra, on the other hand, had gone to Nadia’s contemplation tower. Seating herself in the center trying to reach out to Nadia or Gianna or to any of the Arcana or anyone willing to help or give them answers. She closes her eyes, trying to find her center. Calming herself as much as possible before a vision greets.  
  
 _Faces, too many count, all appear in front of her. They seem to move sluggishly as if something weighs them down, and it takes a moment for Navra to realize she smells smoke. Something acrid, as if something is burning. She forces herself to turn around and she sees the Lazaret. Smoke billowing into the sky, turning it black._  
  
 _Ash rains down on her and she feels sick to her stomach._  
  
 _Looking back she sees the faces, all the mourning faces, the dead with blood from their orifices, eyes barely open, clearly tired from combating the Plague. They shuffle, moving past her slowly as if trying to reach the Lazaret. She looks around, trying to get a clear look at any of those faces but they seem faded as if their features were being blurred._  
  
 _Navra turns to look at the island again except suddenly she is in the Lazaret._  
  
 _Her feet on the black sand, the forest singing a discontented, lamenting wail. It does not draw her in, in fact, she feels its repulsion, trying to push her away, knowing she is not one of them. She turns to look at Vesuvia, seeing the flickering lights and the darkness, and takes one last look to the forest to find Gianna standing there._  
  
 _She seems smaller, her frame thin. Her head is bowed, and it is only when she looks up at Navra does Navra realizes that she is staring at a Plague-ridden version of her friend. “You do not belong here.” Her voice is different, barely her own, and it sounds like many were speaking through her. “Leave.”_  
  
Before Navra can say or do anything else, a powerful blast of magic sends her flying back. Waking up in her body, her own back flat on the floor. She takes deep, ragged breaths, trying to soothe herself. The smell and taste of the smoke still lingering as she stumbles out of the room.   
  
She had to warn the others.


End file.
